


Anonymous Emmett

by EllaB



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllaB/pseuds/EllaB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward is in love with his best friend, but could never share those feelings with the object of his desire. To deal with his overwhelming emotions, he begins a destructive routine to find some kind of release.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anonymous Emmett

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Contains a gritty, sad story and graphic lemons of the slash variety.

The bile rose in my throat as I surveyed the pulsing dance floor. The horribly appealing stench of sweat, leather and beer hung in the air like a humid, dirty blanket — under which a magnitude of sinners celebrated ecstasy in full view or in dark corners.

_Why the fuck do I still get nervous about this?_

It had taken me nearly a week to build the nerve to come back to this place, and now that I was here, I was trying very hard to talk myself down once again. But I knew if I didn't relieve the tension, I would never be able to function normally around him tomorrow.

I ignored the hisses and whispered invitations as I strode with false confidence to the bar. A mission like mine required liquid courage, and a lot of it.

"Jaeger…double," I gruffed, avoiding the eyes of the bartender. I might only be 20, but a twink like me was a valuable commodity in a place like Cellblock, and I knew the shot would be in my hand quickly, no questions asked and no I.D. checked. Sure enough, I was gulping the burn down in no time, the liquor smoldering in my belly and slowly replacing the nerves. "Another," I demanded.

I had only been to this club once before. Back before my routine had been established.

Normally, when the tension got to be too much, I would text Jessica. That desperate, nerdy bitch had wanted my cock since the first time she saw me during Greek Week activities our freshman year. I never gave it to her, though. I couldn't fathom having my hard-on near her vagina. Instead, I would send her a message and she would show up to suck my dick. It was a win-win. She got to taste my coveted cock, and I got to close my eyes and imagine it was _his_ mouth on me.

_Emmett_.

Emmett McCarty and I had been best friends since the fourth grade, when he kicked Tyler Crowley's ass for making a douche comment about my black eye. Emmett knew that things weren't great at my home, because they were the same at his. We bonded over the hate of our fathers.

Back then, I was in awe of Emmett, but never realized I loved him until I found myself jerking off next to him as he slept over at my house one night in the 7th grade. From that moment on, I realized I was gay. And I was in love with Emmett McCarty.

Fucking all-county football and wrestling star, six-foot, five-inch, 220 lb specimen of masculinity Emmett McCarty.

As middle school turned into high school, I kept up the façade. I went to dances. I dated girls. I even lost my virginity to Bella Swan in the cramped backseat of Emmett's dilapidated Jeep.

When Emmett got a partial scholarship to wrestle at Northwestern, I was suddenly interested in the medical school at the Chicago-based University. Emmett was excited to leave our small hometown in Washington State to travel to a big city. I was excited to go anywhere with him.

Soon after arriving, however, the close quarters became excruciating. I wanted him with every ounce of my being. I stayed awake at night watching his sleeping form. I offered to do his laundry so I could smell his scent on his clothing. Every day I found myself stopping just short of saying too much to him about my feelings.

I loved him with an intensity I'd never felt for someone or something. I choked down clichéd butterflies every time he walked into the room, like some twisted little bitch. I knew details about him that no one else could even fathom, and all of those particulars made him even more flawless in my eyes.

I knew that he overcompensated with his sense of humor because of his intense need to be liked. I knew that he had been a chubby little boy and his father used to withhold food from him — sometimes for days. I knew that he fought that image, and resorted to steroids in high school to help sculpt his body. I was there for his rages and I was there for his breakdowns.

I also knew that he was sometimes too kind, and sacrificed himself to make other people happy. I knew that he talked in his sleep and that he missed his little sister. I also knew that he drank too much and treated his girlfriends like playthings.

I knew some other things, too.

Like how my stomach felt warm every time he clapped me on the shoulder or held his hand out for a low-five. How I over-analyzed every word he said to me. How I knew he was flawed, but my heart refused to see him as anything less than perfect.

I also knew that being around him so much was difficult without adequate…release.

The only thing that relieved the tension so I could face another day with him was my routine with Jessica.

That disgusting routine had been enough to keep me from doing something stupid when the pressure got to be too powerful — like offering to suck him off…or offering my ass as a gift. Something foolish like telling him that I was in love with him. My resolve hung by a thread around him anyway, and my balls constantly ached from unsatisfied erections. Jessica offered release, and as much as I hated myself for it, I knew her virginal mouth was a risk-free option.

Then Jessica had to go and get herself an equally desperate, nerdy boyfriend, and thus ended our little routine. The ache had been building for seven weeks, and I was half crazed with unrequited love and lust for the man who shared my dorm room. This buildup had culminated in a near-miss the week before, for which I was still kicking myself.

Emmett and I had been in our dorm's community shower. He had a habit of foregoing his towel and walking around unabashedly naked. He knew he looked good, and was a bit of an exhibitionist with his muscles. Not that I minded, of course.

Emmett was shaving his stubborn facial hair and I was trying to tame my messy bronze mop. Finally achieving what Jessica called "sex hair," I gathered my products and got ready to leave. My hand — almost of its own accord —brushed by his bare butt when I walked past. I remember exhaling silently, savoring the warm tingles that erupted on the skin of my fingers at the contact.

"What the fuck, Cullen?" he hissed, jerking away while the first signs of my erection dwindled immediately under my towel, in panic at what I had done.

"Well, _fuck_ , dude! Get your ass out of my space!" I retorted, acting as though the contact disgusted me just as much. "Fag…," I added, trying to fill my boyish voice with vitriol.

Emmett snorted. "Whatever."

And the rest of the day had progressed like it always did — random, bullshit conversations about school, frat activities, football and pussy. No sign that the moment in the bathroom held any significance to anyone but me.

Since Jessica's geeky ass had abandoned me, I had to find another release. Otherwise, I didn't see how I could continue to be around Emmett without telling him or showing him my feelings. I began meeting secretly with some other gay students on campus for fuck sessions. They kept my dick occupied, but it was always a hollow fuck. I didn't want another scrawny twink like myself. If I wanted that, I'd just masturbate. No, I wanted a big, burly bear. I wanted someone large and muscular; someone like _him_.

_Someone like him_. I spied an appealing substitute near the three pool tables on the far end of the club. He was tall and built — _like a football player or wrestler_ , I thought — but young enough that I wouldn't feel totally creeped out about it. His five o'clock shadow was obvious from across the room. Gathering my courage and downing another double shot of my favorite memory eraser, I locked eyes with him and walked over.

"Hey," I said, careful to make my voice a note or two higher than usual. His eyebrows went up as he gave me the once over. _Yeah, that's right…check out the merchandise, fucker._

Smooth skin? _Check_.

Lean physique? _Check_.

Pretty-boy features? _Check_.

"Hey," he finally responded, taking a long swill from his beer as his eyes lingered on my crotch. I licked my lips and nodded, walking away without another word, toward the dark hallway in the back of the club that led to the emergency exit behind the building.

I stepped around several groaning and grunting couples, some were enjoying a little cock sucking and others participating in rigorous butt sex. I adjusted my growing erection at the sight of one particularly happy man having his salad tossed. Typical seedy gay club…if the cops weren't already busy fighting actual crime, they'd be able to make dozens of arrests every night for public lewdness.

I knew he was walking after me. I felt his eyes on my toned rear, and it made my cock twitch with anticipation. Finally, I would get release.

Reaching an open spot in the hallway, I turned around to face him. He was already reaching for the fly on his jeans when I stopped him with a slow stroke down his muscular stomach.

"You're clean?" I asked. He nodded and pulled a foil wrapper out of his pocket. _Lubricated…that was good_.

"You?"

I nodded. "Can I ask one thing though?" He nodded, his eyes hungry. "Don't talk." I wanted to imagine Emmett's voice in my ear for this.

He moved his head in agreement again and continued to work the zipper on his pants. My vision wavered a bit — perhaps a bit too much Jager too quickly — and I closed my eyes.

When I opened them, fully in my fantasy now, Emmett stood before me, his massive cock bobbing as he lowered his pants on his hips. Without a word, I stepped forward and pressed against him, feeling the heat of him hard against my stomach.

He looked up in surprise and I reached toward him, to put my palms on each side of his face. I could feel the prickles of his scruff against my fingers as I caressed his skin. Leaning up, I took his lower lip between my own, sucking it in and tasting the beer that still lingered there. He answered with eager roughness, pushing his dick harder against me and grazing his teeth against my soft mouth.

I licked up the side of his face, reveling in the scratchy stubble against my tongue. He turned my head and darted his tongue in my ear, his breathing and low moans much louder and more intense. I pressed my growing bulge against him earnestly, seeking friction.

He met my mouth again. Our tongues fought for dominance, but of course his won. I was the sub here. A tweak of my nipple reminded me of this and I fell to my knees in front of him with a gasp of pain and pleasure.

While my mouth was open, he positioned the head of his cock between my lips and nudged it in. My tongue laved his hard flesh eagerly and I took it as far back as I could, growling softly in my throat to add some vibration to the tip. I was rewarded with sweet drops of pre-cum. I slurped it down greedily.

He fisted the hair on the back of my head and started to thrust his hips against my face. The intensity of it made my eyes water, but I wouldn't stop. I would take anything he gave me. Anything for Emmett.

The head of his dick rubbed up and down the roof of my mouth as I moaned against him. In my ears I heard him grunting as his hips moved faster, and my ears heard Emmett's pleasure.

I didn't want him to finish without fucking me, so I pulled back when he briefly paused in his pumping action. I didn't make eye contact, so as not to break the fantasy, and stood quickly, fumbling with my pants as he cursed and tore open the condom package.

I turned around and spread my legs slightly, waiting for him to roll the sheath on himself. Finally, I felt a strong, calloused hand on my lower back and I hissed in anticipation. Warm and firm, his cock nestled between my cheeks and he worked it in slowly. Excruciatingly slow.

_Emmett would not be so careful._

"Fucking shove it in me!" I gasped, my teeth clenched. The hand on my back moved to grasp my hip and the other hand came up to grab me on the other side, and he plunged his entire length inside of me.

Without hesitation, he began thrusting roughly, his erratic breaths loud in my ear. His balls slapped up against the base of my stiff cock, and I reached down and began to stroke myself.

I tuned out the grunts that emitted from his chest as he pumped his cock in and out. I tuned out the smells of beer and sweat and leather that always permeated these experiences. I focused on two things - the strong hands squeezing my skin and the large penis rubbing back and forth along my prostate. If I focused on those two things, I could easily imagine Emmett touching me that way — fucking me that way. Loving me that way.

So softly I knew he would never hear, I whispered, "Emmett…I love you." One tear blurred in my eye for a moment, but I blinked it away quickly, stubbornly.

Nothing existed but the fantasy, and I wasn't surprised that I reached my climax before my anonymous partner. With a yell, I spurted against the wall in front of me, catching some on my hand and reaching back to give my pretend Emmett a taste. His tongue captured my fingers and worked them like he was blowing me. And all the time he pounded my ass.

Finally, his thrusts changed and he drove deeper and slower into me. I knew by the roar in my ear that he was coming. I clenched my muscles together to grip his cock tightly as he filled the condom. Slowly, he withdrew and began to clean up.

I didn't look at him as I pulled my pants up. I felt the same shame I always did after an encounter like this. This nameless man wasn't the person I wanted. He was a substitute, an anonymous cock who took me out of my unrequited reality for a few brief moments. He gave me a release from the tension that threatened to turn me into an honest man in front of Emmett.

"Thanks," his voice was gruff in my ear and he was gone before I turned around.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and somehow I knew without looking that it was my love. He probably wanted to go cruise the shore in his Jeep, looking for girls or parties with free booze.

It was a typical Saturday night for two straight college frat guys.

I sighed and adjusted my clothing before walking down the hallway toward the club. The moaning, writhing pairs no longer affected my cock. My mind was clear. The ache was gone.

Anonymous Emmett had done well.

I could live in my sad, fake reality for another few weeks. I didn't mind it, really. As long as it kept me near real Emmett…well, that's all that mattered to me.


End file.
